


So Close

by Paint Me a Symphony (youngerdrgrey)



Series: 1000 Theme Challenge [3]
Category: Bones (TV)
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2009-02-24
Updated: 2009-07-26
Packaged: 2017-12-15 15:31:25
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 2,801
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/851150
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/youngerdrgrey/pseuds/Paint%20Me%20a%20Symphony
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p><em>You're in my arms, and all the world is calm, the music playing on for only two, so close together, and when I'm with you, so close to feeling alive.</em> Brennan/Booth, based off song of same title.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. you're in my arms

**Author's Note:**

> (#397 of 1000 Theme Challenge, "Imitation" / "you're in my arms")  
> Booth's narrator.

You're in my arms.

I can feel your breath on my neck, sending jolts down my spine. As cliché as that is, it's true. It singes its way through me like a ripple in the ocean, making me shudder at the very contact between us. What we're doing, this dance, is magical. It's amazing. But, I have this feeling like it just isn't enough. It's close to something else, something more, but it's just not there.

We are moving along the dance floor, in sync, and together. My eyes are closed, as I try to hold on to this moment. Every breath I take seems just a bit harder than the last one. It's odd. I should be relishing the chance of having both you and oxygen at the same time. But, I can't, Every breath is another second passed, another second closer to the end of this dance. This is so different from other dances in my life. You and me, we're not the awkward couple in their first dance in public. No, we're more like the king and queen of prom, floating in that bubble of contentment from having won together.

I feel kind of like I'm back in those days of bad hairstyles, and even worse dates. Only this time, instead of being with Laurie Tyler, I'm with the brainy and tragically beautiful girl who I always tried to get a few answers from during Chem tests. This dream, this thought, feels so much more real than any of those memories of my actual prom. It doesn't matter that we would have never worked out as teenagers, or that we probably won't work out now, if something happens to bring us closer. All that matters is that I have you in my arms, and it'll stay that way. At least, for a moment longer.

Then, I breathe again, just for a second too long. The song ends. And, the trance is broken.

You pull from my arms, and I am reminded, painfully, that I am not the person you're looking for in your life. I'm not the person you wish had been your prom date, nor am I the one you want to "satisfy that biological need".

I'm Seeley Booth. And, you're Bones. And, there's that stupid line that I drew with a fucking sharpie instead of the pencil I needed.

Another song begins. I take a second to think about the consequences of simply pulling you back to me, and trying to recreate what we just had. But, I quickly let it go.

 _It wouldn't work_ , I tell myself. It wouldn't be real, just like the image floating around in my head of the hockey player and the brainy girl from Chem class.  _It'd be nothing_ , I insist. Nothing, but a sad imitation of what could have been, but never will be.


	2. and all the world is calm

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Brennan tries to understand why, when dancing with Booth, everything else seems to melt away.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> (#3 of 1000 Theme Challenge, "A Little More Than Friends" / "and all the world is calm")

And all the world is calm.

Surrounding me, there is nothing but the gentle and almost visible melody of the song playing in the background. Together, we sway on the dance floor like the ocean in the night. We sweep across like Angela's hair with the top down, or a daffodil during a breeze.

Your arms are around me, and everything is just a bit too peaceful in this little realm.

All that exists is you and me. Come to think of it, it's that way a lot.

This definitely isn't the first time I've found myself with nothing but you and the dull buzz of reality somewhere in the back of my skull. It may be impossible for it to feel like the world is quite literally fading away. But, when I'm with you, I find the impossible to usually be well within my reach.

Angela always says, "It's love, sweetie." But, I know that cannot be it.

Jack says, "It's just you opening your eyes." But, they've been opening and closing for as long as I can remember. It's called blinking, Hodgins.

And, Cam doesn't say anything when I mention it. She just shakes her head and mumbles something about me needing to get out of the lab more.

I simply do not understand why this happens. It is almost as if my entire body seems to just disappear in those moments, and my frustration, my anger, my sadness, my fear, just melts away. When I mentioned it to you once, you said, "The magic of guy hugs, Bones," and left it at that. But, that answer does not work for me.

I need something solid, something tangible, to prove to me that this is simply just a chemical reaction in the brain.

Because, if it isn't… well, if it isn't, I might just have to listen to Angela the next time she starts talking about the so-called "undeniable attraction and pent up sexual tension" between us.

If it's more than just a natural human function, we have a problem, Booth. How would we describe ourselves if there was actually something there?

It's hard enough to do it now. "Partners" is as simple as it can get. We're not dating, and we're not simply partners. I've had co-workers before, and you don't fall into the categories I have for them. Our relationship is more intimate, but in a very non-physical, non-lover kind of way.

There has to be a simple explanation. There just has to be. And, I need to figure it out. Because, when it comes to us, there are a lot of things I just don't know, don't understand. And, the only thing I do know, the only thing that I know out of pure, one-hundred certainty, is that we are definitely more than just friends. The question is: how much more?


	3. the music playing on for only two

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Angela remembers a time when the music seemed to play only for her and that lucky guy. I'm sorry, I don't remember if his name was Kurk or Kirt, so, bare with me if it's wrong.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> (#124 of 1000 Theme Challenge, "Cheese" / "the music playing on for only two")

It's kind of eerie how the entire floor seemed to have moved to the side once they got out there. It comes off more humorous to me though.

The music playing on for only two. How fitting for Booth and Bren.

I don't get it. How do they that? How is it that without ever being intimate, ever really knowing what each other could be, they are so in tune to what the other needs, feels, and will do next? They move so perfectly in a rhythm that it looks almost like they have rehearsed a thousand times, yet still like it's that very first dance. They're like a new flower in the springtime; something you've seen a thousand times before, probably crushed once or twice, but still mesmerizing and beautiful all the same. It just makes no sense.

Looking at them, it is obvious that they don't see anyone else. I wouldn't be surprised - with the looks on their faces - if they just stripped down and did it right there, in the center of the floor. But, I know they won't. It's another thing that is Booth and Bren.

A certain intimacy that goes beyond just the physical, and bends the laws of physics. Something that feels too delicate, too precious, and too guarded to be simply sex, no matter where it happens.

Gosh, just think about them is giving me a tooth ache. If only they gave us little flutes of novocaine instead of champagne. It would certainly make this night much easier to deal with, make seeing them dance easier to deal with, make going numb easier to happen.

They remind me of someone. Together, the little looks, the small smiles, and cryptic touches. Sometimes, I get this sting just from glancing at my best friend when she is near Booth. Because, she has that same look that I used to see, every day, for three weeks every year.

Today is the anniversary, of the day my hands first touched Kirk's skull, of the moment I realized that three weeks just wasn't enough, of the second I knew just how deep his love went for me. I should have realized sooner, with both Kirk and Hodgins.

Kirk loved me every day, of every year, for five years. He loved me enough to go through forty-nine weeks without me, just for those twenty-one days where I would be nothing but his. I should have known.

And, Jack, Jack really cared for me, really made me feel special. But, he didn't trust me. I should have seen that coming, though. He's a conspiracy theorist, after all. Having poor trust in people around him is what he does for a living. That and sift through Earth particles.

I…. I want back, so badly, back to before, back to when the music would play and all I would see were my guy's eyes staring right back into mine. Back to when I was in  _that_  relationship, that one so mind-boggling and Earth-shattering that I could believe anything from purple elephants to moons made of Swiss cheese.


	4. and when I'm with you

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Brennan tries to explain to Booth how things are different when they're together. Third person.

"And when I'm with you, things are different, Booth," she says, looking at him as they sit at their table. Angela had long since disappeared, and it is back to simply being Temperance and Seeley. Or, should it be Bones and Booth? She can never really tell when they are who.

"How are things different, Bones?" he asks in a voice that makes her feel like a child.

"I don't know," she responds bringing a chuckle from him, "I honestly don't," she defends.

"Then why bring it up?" he wonders.

"I was hoping that us talking could help me figure it out," she explains.

"So, us talking about how things are different around me is going to help you figure out, well, you?" he checks. She nods. He caves.

"You make me think of Jason," she begins. He holds up his hand to stop her instantly.

"Wait, the gay botanist?" he proclaims.

"He wasn't gay, Booth. We proved that when he started talking about how he could be stimulating in a sexual sense, remember?" she inquires. He nods, a tight smile on his face.

"I don't like being compared to him," he tells her.

"Well, you told me to speak. I'm expressing my thoughts. Around most males with your physical attributes, there's a sort of chemical reaction that happens. Yet, with you, it doesn't. Kind of like with Jason, you aren't physically what I'm looking for," she shares.

"Wow, Bones. I kind of feel insulted here," he admits.

"You shouldn't. It just means we have a professional relationship, which is also very different. You would think with the amount of time we spend together that there would be more than professional stuff there. Like, a strong sexual attraction for instance, like… hmm, who can I compare it to?" she asks herself.

"Kathy and Andy," he pipes in helpfully.

"Right, the characters from my book can't seem to keep their hands off each other, and their time line is very much like ours," she continues.

"Kathy and Andy are modeled off of us. So, I'm guessing somewhere inside of you--"

"They aren't us, Booth," she denies quickly.

"What do you mean they aren't us? It's obvious to everyone that I'm Andy."

"I've been telling you for years, now. You are not Andy."

"Tell me one thing about Andy that is different than me," he challenges.

"Andy is very, well, established," she stammers awkwardly.

"I'm an FBI Agent, former sniper, Army Ranger, and barista for Starbucks. What's more established than that?" he inquires. She clears her throat.

"I don't mean that type of established, Booth," she points out. He gets the idea and, too, clears his throat.

"H-how do you know I'm not?" he tries.

"There was that time when you were in the bathtub," she reminds him.

"Objects in water are larger than they appear," he informs.

"That's talking about mirrors; not water," she comments.

"Look, Bones, I'm a very established man. I mean, just look at my feet," he exclaims.

"I don't see what your feet have to do with the size of your penis, Booth."

He sighs, exasperatedly.

"You know what, let's change the subject," he says.

"But, I never finished what I was saying before," she protests.

"Then wrap it up, because I want to finish this discussion in time for the next dance," he ushers.

"I just wanted to say that it's different with you. With the others, there was physical attraction, and some even intriguing conversation. But, things always got in the way and caused problems. With you, that never happens. It's almost like everything else fades away," she concludes. He smiles at that, his smile only widening when she gets that puzzle solving face again.

"Like a little piece of heaven?" he proposes.

She takes in the thought. Heaven has been said to be a place unlike any other, where nothing can harm you, and where life is simple and easy; as if floating on a cloud. Despite the ties to religion, the idea is a good one, and one that fits her thought process.

"I suppose so. It's like a little piece of heaven," she concurs, when his smile broadens at the confirmation, she adds, "In a completely atheist sort of way."

He laughs at her and leans back in his chair in typical Booth fashion. She sees him relax, and figures that answer is good enough for the both of them.


	5. so close to feeling alive

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Brennan tries to explain to Booth how things are different when they're together.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> (Can't remember the number, but "pink carnations")

"'So close to feeling alive.' That's what you used to say about field work, Bones. What happened to that?" he asks. She ducks her head a bit, the same way she did when inside under the lights. But, they aren't under the lights anymore. They are outside, sitting on a bench in the night. Only light provided by the moon above.

"Booth," she whispers, almost pleadingly.

"I don't get it," he continues, "How is taking down the bad guy only 'close'? What could be more than that?"

"Nothing, Booth," she snaps.

"No, tell me. There has to be something. Is it the feeling you get when you see new bones? Or maybe the feeling when your dad and Russ and everyone is with you? Or--"

"Drop it," she commands.

"I can't now, Bones. I'm curious," he informs.

"According to Greek mythology, it's curiosity that causes man to die of old age, famine, and disease," she recites.

"Yeah, well, we aren't talking about Greek myth. We're talking about you, me, and being alive," he says.

"Isn't there a song about that?" she inquires.

"On staying alive. And, you're not going to distract me that easily. Just tell me, I promise not to laugh," he bargains, holding up a hand in the air.

"Scott's honor?"

"Scout's," he corrects instinctively.

"Same thing," she replies.

"Not really, but we can say it is if it'll mean sharing with me," he tries.

"If I tell you, you have to promise it will never leave the two of us. And, you can't keep talking about it either," she dictates.

"Alrighty, let's do this," he proclaims. She sighs.

"When I was a little kid, my mom and I would go for drives sometimes. We'd get in the car, drive to the florist, get some pink carnations and ride out to the country. During those trips, we would just let go and forget everything but the wind in our hair and the music playing from the car's stereo. Those moments, I felt alive in every sense of the word."

He slowly nods, taking in everything she's just said.

"What made you feel alive?" he asks.

"Booth! You said you wouldn't keep talking about it, if I told you," she reminds.

"I did, but you lied to me," he points out.

"I did not," she denies.

"Bones, you said you got pink carnations. Those are for memorials, obviously your thoughts weren't gone, and you hate sitting back for rides in cars. You wouldn't feel alive simply sitting in the passenger seat. I know you," he states.

She frowns slightly at that.

"Mistletoe," she whispers.

"What?" he says.

"Mistletoe. It's what I think of when I think of the word alive," she declares.

"Why mistletoe?" he wants to know.

She remains silent.

_Certainly it can't be why I think it is, can it?_  He thinks. Mistletoe definitely makes him think of something; a certain night where a puckish attorney and a little Christmas spirit gave him more than he could have ever expected to get when he entered his partner's office. A smirk slides onto his face the more he thinks.  _Oh, yeah, baby_.

He quickly changes his face to one of indifference when she looks back his way.

"Fine, don't clue me in, Bones. I'll just have to figure it out myself," he says, sure to up the petulant child in his tone. He is rewarded by a smile on her face a moment later.

"You have fun with that, Booth," she comments. Once her back is turned, he smirks once more.

_Pink carnations. Ha!_


End file.
